Say What You Will
by Arquellania
Summary: No one knew something was wrong. Then Chuck Bass returned, and things took a turn for the worse. Post 2x13 oneshot. Chuck/Blair


**Say What You Will**

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**Summary: **There are some secrets that are revealed no matter how hard you try to hide them.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Gossip Girl or this amazingly complex couple that will hopefully take me out of my writer's block.

**Dedicated to:** The bitches at the Defectives thread! Love you girls!

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Blair Waldorf could often be perceived in "normal" working order if she pasted a smile on her face. No one knew something was wrong.

No one knew something was wrong until they witnessed her sticking her finger down her throat and retching into a porcelain toilet bowl.

Maybe that was normal for her. These events became more frequent, more natural, as time passed by.

Then Chuck Bass returned, and things took a turn for the worse.

--

She hadn't seen him in a month. One month had turned her into someone completely different.

She'd been fine for a year until the night he left. After she read his letter she released all the contents in her stomach into the toilet bowl in her bathroom and it began all over again.

She knew she was better than this. But when life spiraled out of control, she _needed_ some sort of control. She needed some sort of escape.

If she hurt herself in the process, it really didn't matter.

--

When she heard that he had returned from his prolonged seclusion, she decided that she would confront him.

She puked, brushed her teeth, straightened her hair, and headed out. It's like clockwork for her; some days she can empty her stomach by just looking at the toilet. Those are the really bad days. They are few and far between, but the good days were rarer.

On the good days she didn't throw up at all. She only had one good day.

Chuck called her that day, drunk out of his mind. He was spewing nonsense, but she listened to every word and replied rationally. When she hung up the phone she had a small hope that he would keep calling back.

He never did.

--

She does a breath check before entering his suite. It's the scent of fresh spearmint. No one would ever know.

Secrets are the only things she swears to keep.

He opens the door, and surprisingly, he is completely sober.

"You didn't waste any time." He isn't smiling.

"Hello to you too, Bass." She glares at him and lets herself in.

She decides this is going to be one awkward conversation. She should have thought of something to say.

--

"So, you've decided to come back from your trip whoring around Thailand." She says in her natural icy tone.

"It was quite fun." He's not backing down.

"So you're glad I didn't follow you?"

"It wasn't your scene, Blair." He takes a joint out and lights it up. "It was better for you to stay here."

"Why? Did you think that I couldn't handle you sleeping around?" She demanded.

"You just didn't belong there." He says abruptly. He takes a long drag on his joint, blowing the smoke right into her face.

She coughs. Her nose flares in annoyance and she decides that there's no getting through to him unless she shows her vulnerability.

She grabs his hand and clamps it tightly.

"You said you didn't have a family." She says out of nowhere, her eyes distant. Her eyes shoot to him.

"I don't." He's tough as ever, show not vulnerable side to him.

"You know that's a lie." Her voice breaks. "I'm trying hard, Chuck. I'm trying to get through to you, but you don't seem to care."

He's weakened for a moment, but he hardens again and doesn't say anything.

So she tries a different tactic.

"You know I relapsed, right?" She lets the skeletons out of the closet.

He freezes. Then he lets his tongue loose. "When?"

"So you finally talk." She's the bitter one now. "Things seem to change rather quickly with you."

And in that one moment, Chuck Bass, who had once known every detail about Blair Waldorf, knew nothing. She was a complete stranger to him.

It's her turn to walk away. She stands up, gives him one last pathetic look, then turns on her heel and leaves.

--

Once she made her dramatic exit, she had that feeling. That feeling where she completely lost control of her life; it was the one feeling she despised because there was nothing she could to prevent it.

She knew it was coming.

She accepted the blackness as she took a hard fall to the ground.

--

She feels the atmosphere of a hospital room as she regains consciousness.

"A blackout brought on by starvation." He's in the doorway. "I must admit, Waldorf, you know how to go out in style."

Her mouth is a thin line. "What are you doing here?"

"I want to know what happened." He gets serious as he plops down in the chair next to her hospital bed. "I know for a fact you were fine before I left."

She tightens her jaw. "Long story short, I threw up that night you left. And then I threw up again. And for fun, I kept on." He just stares at her. "It was a rather enjoyable month. No one ever knew what I was doing in the bathroom, or the fact that I ate and vomited like clockwork."

He just shakes his head. "You know you're better than this."

She rejects the idea. "No, I'm not. I'm not better than this. I let _you_ decide what direction my life was going to go. And that just makes me weak."

"Wait, where did I come into this?" He tries to take no fault in the situation when deep down she knows he understands everything she's saying.

"I thought you were smarter than that." She laughs bitterly. "It was just of mere coincidence that I relapsed after you left. I let myself fall apart because of you!" Hot tears scald her cheeks. "I was _fine,_ just _fine, _for more than a year! And then your father dies and you go insane, and you bring me down with you!"

He's taken aback by her bombardment of cries for help.

"Blair, you need _help_." He states the obvious.

"I'm not the only one that needs help." She wipes her cheeks. "I'm not the one who drank himself through Asia for a month."

"This isn't about _me_, no matter how much you try to make it about me. This is about _you_. You're not going to be able to beat this until you get some real help."

She gives him a burning glare. "Do you think I don't know that? All that's going to happen is my mother hiring a shrink and covering up everything. It happens _every_ time."

He gulps and takes in all the information. She's pouring out a lot, all that she's held in for a month, all the things that he should have heard but never wanted to listen to.

"If no one's willing to help you, then you have to help yourself." He takes her hand, caressing her brittle fingers. "And I'll be with you, whatever you want to do."

Blair nodded, finally accepting help when it was offered.

This was the one opportunity they had to survive. This was her last hope, and his last chance.

Deep down they both knew that they could brave the cruelest storm.

--

**Author's Note:** Thanks to the bitches at the Defectives board, especially Mel, who pushed me to write this!

This oneshots might be released few and far between, but I'll try to get some out faster. As for Drowning, I'm not sure where it's going as of now. I just don't know if it's worth continuing, but I don't want to disappoint the readers.

Review, please! I really want to know what you think. Thanks, Cass


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